


Thorki Collection

by Thorki_ed



Series: Tumblr Requests/Norsekink Prompts [24]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Varies by Chapters - Read Summaries for Additional Warnings.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-04
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-10 06:59:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorki_ed/pseuds/Thorki_ed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Thorki one-shots inspired by art. Please note they are in no way a continuation, and each have a different story line.</p><p>Check out my FrostIron and Hiddlesworth Collections too! :)</p><p>"Fight You Next" (Mature, violence, death, angst)<br/>"At a Crossroad" (NC-17, Loki/Loki, smut, angst)<br/>"Meow, She Said Ferociously" (GA, crack/humour)<br/>"An Apology Too Late" (Teen, angst, mourning)<br/>"Clearly Yours" (Teen, manipulative!Loki, crack/humour)<br/>"Awake" (Teen, fluff, angst)<br/>"Alone" (Teen, angst, death)<br/>"Lurk in the Shadows" (Mature, angst, poetic)<br/>"Cameras" (GA, fluff, crack/humour)<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fight You Next

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ryouseiteki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryouseiteki/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a vicious cycle, their love. And if you’re not part of it, you just don’t get it.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Inspired by this [ astounding piece of art.](http://bringmelokismjolnir.tumblr.com/post/27838672647/soltian-against-the-serpent-goes-othins) Courtesy of [Soltian.](http://soltian.tumblr.com/)

It’s a vicious cycle, their love. And if you’re not part of it, you just don’t get it.

It’s love and hate, filled to the brink with anger and joy, loathing and envy, and malice beyond the imagination. They run their cat-and-mouse games, and nobody dare stop them - nobody can stop them and they fall into the same pattern of ripping each other’s hearts out over and over again. 

So yes, it’s a terrible ache, and it’s the worst kind of pain, and to a bystander it just looks like pure resentment.

But they never doubted their love.

More often than not, their powers would dwindle as their fights carried on and they resorted to launching themselves at each other’s throats, clawing and gripping at bare, vulnerable flesh. They bled as they battled, snarling at each other like rabid beasts before finally succumbing to their tired limbs and sitting next to each other, gasping for air. Assessing their damage done, one could even say their love contained guilt and remorse, but nobody could be sure.

And then Loki would storm off, disappear, and Thor would hold his breath for the day he would meet his brother again - because there would be an “again”. Always. Nobody knew where Loki went, and if Thor did, he never told. He would ignore the looks on his team’s face, walking readily into their next battle, and whomever was unlucky enough to face the wrath of an enraged thunder god would be put out of commission for weeks. 

Until the time where Loki stopped coming around as often, and the storm clouds above told everyone that Thor was unhappy with this. Or perhaps it was a beckoning call, goading his little brother to come out and play their games. Nothing happened.

But the Avengers didn’t revolve around Loki, even if he was the one who brought them together. They had other duties, they needed to report, and they needed to get their head in the game.

It was a concept that the beloved thunderer struggled with - Thor was brash, he always had been. It had been upon the many reasons why Loki thought he was never fit for the crown, and it hadn’t changed much. He still put his actions above his thoughts when it came to priorities, and that’s he came face-to-face with death’s door.

“How’s Loki doing these days, little princess?” her tone was taunting and wretched, twisting Thor’s stomach. 

“You would do well to keep my brother’s name off your tongue, vile sorceress!” 

“Oh, Thor. You must miss him terribly what with his long, long leave of absence?”

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HIM!” he demanded before it seemed the air was knocked out of him. When he looked down, an arrow protruded from his chest, the point of it painted shockingly red.

“Tsk, tsk, Thor. I thought you better than that!” Amora taunted one last time before vanishing, taking Malekith with her to take check in on the other Avengers and their foes. It left Skurge rampaging towards him, wielding his axe. Thor ripped the arrow out of his chest, letting the wound fester and boil with some sort of magic. He felt weak and unsteady on his feet, turning at the last second to avoid the blow - but not fast enough. He felt the back of his left arm tear open and fell to the floor clumsily, scraping his head along a jagged rock. The axe came down again as he tried to roll out of the way, and hissed in pain as his stomach was torn by the blade. He was beyond sluggish now, and cursed whatever immobilizing curse had been cast on their weapons.

He laid there, eyes turned upward to stare at the evil hunger in the Executioner’s eyes, the sunlight bouncing off the axe blindingly. Yet Thor didn’t think about death, his whole life didn’t flash before his eyes - no, his thoughts were of what they were always of - his little brother.

Loki.

And as if it had summoned the sorcerer somehow, he appeared between the two, his magic flaring from his body as it always did when his anger was beyond control. Most never saw Loki’s real power, always assuming that he was easily beat or used the same tricks all the time, but oh how wrong they were.

It took him a matter of seconds to force the Executioner away from the injured Thor, parrying his attacks with more force than the other could muster, and when Skurge lay defeated, Loki made no hesitation to make his way back to the bloody mess of his brother.

“Fool, look at what you’ve done.”

Thor smiled lazily at him, “I’m sorry, brother.”

Loki’s magic only took an instant to be repelled, causing Loki to look on horror. How can this be? Why can’t I save him?

“Don’t move!” he snapped.

“Don’ have much’f a choice,” Thor slurred, the paralysis making its way up his throat. He tried to cough the sensation away, bringing up blood instead.

Loki was intelligent beyond anyone else in the nine realms, he knew the signs as they came. He moved to angle Thor onto his lap and against his chest, making sure his brother couldn’t see the tears that were forming as he wiped away the blood from his brother’s lips.

With Thor’s last breath, he whispered, “I suppose I must fight you next.” 

Loki couldn’t let Thor see him cry, he couldn’t admit the bitter defeat just yet, he couldn’t let Thor down — because the moment Loki started to cry, Thor would know it was over, and Thor would be lost to him. Forever. There would be no more chase.

“Yes. But not just yet.” Next time, his words had suggested.

But as his tears slid down his porcelain cheek to rain against Thor’s scalp, they both knew there would be no next time.


	2. At a Crossroad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was forbidden.  
> 
> 
> Inspired by this [hot piece of work](http://thorki-smut.tumblr.com/post/30396376675/thor-loki-and-the-avengers-loki-by-liduke-at). Credit to [Liduke.](http://liduke.deviantart.com/)

I had mastered magic, I had mastered manipulation, I had conquered space and almost everything else that the realms had to offer. The only logical thing left was time, of course. And who was to stop me, should I choose to not be discovered? No one.

And so, I found himself in the throne room, hidden from view, and listened in as the scene unfolded. It was all too perfect - I knew the flaws of my plan, and now I knew how to win.

“My first command can not be to undo the Allfather’s last. We’re on the brink of war with Jotunheim. Our people must have a sense of continuity in order to feel safe in these difficult times.”

I smiled at the fluidity of my own tongue, remembering my little speech to the warriors that knelt before me. 

“All of us must stand together, for the good of Asgard.”

I almost laughed out loud. _For the good of Asgard_. I remember when there was a time I genuinely believed that I loved the realm eternal, grateful for the _family_ and _home_ I had. It was all a distant memory now.

“Of course,” Fandral had said. I could picture Sif being held back, clearly eager to rip my earlier-self’s head off. 

I waited for the footsteps to retreat, and for the silence to sweep in once more. Stepping out from behind the golden pillar in full confidence, I made my way towards the throne, eyes zeroed in on my target. The Loki on the throne widened his eyes just the slightest, before his eyes darted to the guards on either side of him. I shook my head, knowing he would understand. He cleared his throat and dismissed his guards with supreme authority that made my skin tingle - with pride, with adoration. Yes, I was powerful, and I always had been. The guards didn’t even question me. I felt a swell in my heart seeing myself so flawless in my skin, no marks or scars, no darkness under my eyes, and not a single short hair out of place.

We were alone when I reached the foot of the throne, but I couldn’t have him look down upon me, now could I? My footsteps were quiet, my strides even and calm, and our eyes locked in a deadly clash of green as I made my way to him.

“Why are you here?” he asked with a calculating stare. He knew who I was, and even more so, he accepted it. He accepted the darkness that I was, looming over him, yet he didn’t flinch when I moved closer. _Oh, how naive I used to be,_ I thought. 

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll hurt you?” I asked coyly.

“To wound me would be to wound yourself, and if you are as I think, you don’t enjoy unnecessary pain.”

I smiled so widely I felt my eyes crinkle at the corners. “You know me oh so well.”

“I should, shouldn’t I?” he replied in a nonchalant voice, still making no move to get off the throne. 

_So be it._

I stepped back and raised my sceptre to him, just as he rose the slightest to mirror the motion with Gugnir, and before we knew it, we were at a deadlock, completely even in strength and power, height and weight, in a true definition of equilibrium. 

It crashed over me in waves like an icy waterfall, the realization of the it all.

We met each other’s stare again, predatory fire ablaze in the viridian seas of our eyes. 

_We will always be equal._

Equal in a way that I never was with Thor, in a way I would never be with anyone, really.

I lowered my sceptre first, slowly and hesitantly, my mirror image copying me. Were we both so distrusting? So damaged and tortured that we could not even trust ourselves in the most literal sense? 

The answer was yes.

I could see it in the way that this younger version of me raised his eyebrows in question when I dropped the sceptre with a clang, the Tesseract’s power and mission forgotten. 

“Your move, reindeer games,” I laughed softly, seeing his expression turn almost murderous just as mine had when the horrendous phrase had been used on me. 

He lowered place Gugnir at his side, still not letting go, but it satisfied me enough. I studied him as closely as he would allow, and smirked when his eyes showed nothing but curiosity. 

“You know, your plans will backfire on you,” I said. “I’m merely here to help.” He squinted his eyes at me, probably trying to detect an ulterior motive. 

“And what has happened so terribly wrong that you’ve cut through time to try and fix it?” he asked irritably. “Even if it is common knowledge that tampering with history is forbidden?”

“I’ve always had a strong taste for the forbidden now, haven’t I?” I retaliated in a sinister voice, and I knew I had him then. He looked frozen, rigid upon the throne that he didn’t belong in, and I made my move. I leaned in until our noses were almost touching, blinking slowly. My heart swelled again, and perhaps my pride fuelled my adoration, but I placed my hands upon the throne’s arms to steady myself and craned forward to brush my lips against his in a cold, strange yet familiar touch. 

“What are you doing?” my other asked, his voiced tinged with fear and curiosity, but I detected the slight excitement.

“Are you telling me you would deny me this?” 

“Of course I would!”

I scoffed. “Do you forget who you speak to?” Silence as we shared another showdown, a match of Tricksters and a game of it to be played by two Silvertongues. 

Even I had to admit that I was surprised by the next course of action. He rested his spear on the ground and leaned back in his throne, eyes challenging me to see how far I’d go.

I followed his body’s tilt, practically lying on top of him by now, our armoured chests touching. I traced a finger along the delicate curve of my helmet, delighted at the familiarity of it and brought my lips down again. He seemed more compliant this time, dropping his head back to lean into our kiss as I straddled one of his thighs. I broke our kiss to half sit beside him, carefully taking the helmet off. Perhaps he was surprised with how gentle I was, or perhaps he was surprised by how much he had just enjoyed my touch, but either way, I had enraptured him. 

I slid my hand around his back, curling it around his lower ribs like I knew he would love, and held him close. He gripped the throne until his knuckles were bone-white as I nibbled on his ear, slowly sliding my tongue up. There was a noticeable bulge in his pants and I eagerly palmed his hardening cock through the thin fabric. 

His other hand had clamped down on my shoulder, and I smiled against his temple. He squirmed and made a lazy attempt to cross his legs, but neither action prevented my fingers from sliding up his coat to find the waistline of his breeches. 

“I’ll ask you again,” I said in a husky voice. “Would you deny me this?”

He took a deep breathe, eyes still screwed shut. “No.”

I smiled once again, and brought his face to mine. We kissed hungrily, fighting for space on the throne in a tangle of long limbs and heavy armour. He was panting beneath me, his breath hot and fingers cool sending me into shivers. I expertly navigated my way through the buckles and ties of his clothes, tossing it unceremoniously on the floor before moving onto my own wardrobe. 

“Why would anyone really need that many pauldrons,” he muttered under his breath as he stared at my shoulder pieces. It was true that his armour - my armour - had evolved into a complicated suit, easily three times heavier with so much extra protection.

“If you continue on without my help, you’d see,” I said, dangers implicated. 

He swallowed thickly as I removed the last piece of cursed fabric from us to reveal ourselves. There truly hadn’t been much of a change. I ignored the exploring eyes of the man underneath me and drank in the sight of the moonlight skin, rippling with every panting breath and pulled taut over the sinewy muscles. I… I had been beautiful once - once upon a time where the madness hadn’t wreaked havoc upon my mind to turn me into a feral beast with bruise-mottled skin and ghost-like complexion. 

He traced invisible lines along my skin and it took every ounce of energy I had not to tremble against his touch - no, I was in power. 

“Is this how I’ll truly end up?” he asked in a small voice, eyes flitting across the still-open wounds that I wore, I’m sure. I snorted dryly at him before pulling him in for another powerful kiss, our tongues slipping against each other with ease, his high moans of pleasure in harmony with my feral grunts of desperate need. 

I slipped my hand between his legs, coaxing them open enough for my fingers to lightly dance along his perineum. He shuddered, his legs closing on their own accord and trapping my hand. I laughed into his wavering mouth, nipping at his lips and encouraging him to play, to open up again - surely I’d been more daring, hadn’t I?

I tested the theory by sucking on my slender fingers, watching the other’s eyes widen with lust as my tongue flicked around expertly, coating them heavily with saliva. He didn’t stop me as I returned to my teasing, this time slipping my middle finger inside, feeling the shivering warmth of his body. He clenched tightly around my finger, and it was all the encouragement I needed to add another finger. 

We were masters of magic, our connection was more than just simple physicality, and the moment we closed our eyes it was as good as over. We knew each other’s bodies better than anyone, our hands roaming over familiar territory, drinking in the voice we had always known. Our groans filled the hall, and as I slipped in the third finger he had begged me for more.

“Please,” he whimpered - the first time I had ever whimpered in my life. Even if it was not as I planned, I caved in. I knew all the ways to pleasure him, and if I was to still achieve my original goal, I would have to do it this way.

I straddled his narrow hips, tracing the deep V of his bone with my thumbs, staring at him with a new love and desire. The confusion and excitement was written clearly on his face.

I grabbed his heavy, thick cock and prepared to impale myself on it. I wouldn’t thank him for his steadying hands on my hips as I slid down, but the slight burn which caused my legs to tremble would have said it all. I seated myself upon the man whose mouth hung open in a delicate “o”, whose moans had cracked when he bottomed out. 

I didn’t feel like wasting time, and rode him in earnest, grabbing the back of the throne for support. He kissed me as passionately as he could, his hands weaving in and out of my hair, clawing at my back, clutching my bottom and spreading me wider. I was almost embarrassed when a low whine came from my throat, as he grabbed me and pulled me closer, causing his member to graze my prostate. In a moment of weakness I lost my rhythm, and he didn’t need more than that.

He wrapped at arm around my waist, the other around my neck and thrusted up, his legs over the side of the throne for support and I let myself be fucked boneless. I panted against his neck that shone with sweat and smelled of sweet musk, and I snarled when he speared himself against the bundle of exploding nerves over and over again. 

There was a scramble for power, as it always had been with me, as we rode and thrusted, stroked and grabbed, and in a hard slapping of flesh and cries, we came together. My cock twitched against his perfectly toned stomach, letting the last of my seed go as I felt the warmth slowly try to escape between my thighs. He held me the entire time, never letting me go witihout brushing his lips against my temple or whispering in my hair.

“You… You said you were going to help me?” he asked between breaths. 

I was at a crossroads now. 

“The Warriors, they are about to go to Earth to find Thor.”

“But Heimdall -“

“Will work against you this time. You must go, quickly and… you must bring Thor back.”

“Bring Thor back?” he asked, pushing me off slightly. “Why would I do that after all this trouble to keep him on that wretched planet?”

“Do you trust me?” I asked, which was a ridiculous question, really. He shouldn’t, because I wouldn’t. I don’t trust.

“Yes.”

I froze then, realizing the control I had. I could really win. 

“Asgard needs Thor… He is ready now, to rule, but alongside you. As equals.”

“We were never -“

“You can be. This is your chance. Go, quickly.” I used my magic to dress him properly, before shooing him off, much to his despair. He looked back several times, as if saying _‘Wait for me.’_

It only took a few minutes, which was a good thing in case I changed my mind. I looked down at myself, fading away. Finally, a chance for me to be… happy. To be free. To avoid the darkness that consumed me.

 _Goodbye,_ I thought, peaceful for the first time in years, as I faded away to nothing.


	3. Meow, She Said Ferociously

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor gets a hunting hound and thinks it's the most badass thing in all of Asgard, while Loki gets a little kitty (that Thor makes fun of). :3 
> 
> Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah Game of Thrones reference, whaddup!
> 
> for you, ryouseiteki
> 
> Also inspired by [this cute little thing.](http://princeofredroses.deviantart.com/art/Just-lonely-Loki-300134457) Courtesy of [PrinceOfRedroses.](http://princeofredroses.deviantart.com/)

The day Thor turned sixteen, he was allowed a bunch of things:

He could now go on hunts with Asgard's men, helping them provide food for their extravagant feasts. He got up every single morning to do so.

He was given a set of real weapons; an axe, a sword, and a mace. He practiced day and night with them, requiring them to be polished and sharpened regularly.

He was also given a choice of a pet - something Thor looked forward to for _ages._

"I want a hunting hound, father!" he decided. "So that he may come with me on hunts and we will make a most formidable team!" The hound was given to him at just a pup, and Thor needed a lot of help to take care of it, nurturing it to grow into a large beast of a dog that came to Thor's waist, with smooth chestnut hair and sharp teeth. He had immediately taken to the dog, letting it slobber all over his face and robes.

A formidable team they made indeed, bringing home more game that the palace had seen in ages. They were delighted with Thor's new companion, cooing over the how Thor would let it sleep in his bed. When Loki asked Thor what he was going to name him, Thor simply replied, "Hound."

Loki laughed for a long time as this before realizing Thor was serious. Then he just shook his head and went off to his studies. The next two years were kind to Hound, his body had grown muscular and he had adapted to the forests by now, knowing every step to take. Thor was so proud, he would boast to anybody who would listen.

"Look what Hound can do!"

"Come here, boy, shake my paw!"

"Bring home that felled creature!"

Hound listened obediently, and Thor was delighted. The person who heard more than enough of these stories was of course Loki. 

"I get it brother. You love your slobbering pet," he would reply in a monotone manner every time Thor tried to re-count a hunting tale. They were all the same, anyway.

" _You're_ just jealous because you don't have one!" Thor said.

"As if I would really choose to have one!" Loki retaliated.

 

When Loki turned sixteen, he was allowed a bunch of things:

He could now go on hunts with Asgard's men, helping them provide food for their extravagant feasts. He politely declined the invitations and steered clear of the stables in the morning when he knew the squad would saddle up.

He was given a set of real weapons; throwing daggers, double swords, and a spear. He enchanted the swords to never dull and hung them in his room to glisten and shine. He enchanted the throwing daggers to always return to him after being thrown and repel all substance so they would never have to be cleaned. He enchanted the spear's staff to become hollow so that he may hide his rolled up parchment of secrets and works inside. He never practiced with any of them.

He was also given a choice of a pet - something he too looked forward to, ever since Thor was gifted his puppy.

"I would like a cat, please," he said simply. 

"Very well." 

And so his wish was granted. He was given a little ball of soft black fur with glowing green eyes and large blown pupils.

"No need to be afraid, little one," he cooed. As he scratched behind the ears, the small kitten happily closed her eyes and purred, the vibrations becoming a settling feeling for Loki. Loki denied all help, and took of the kitten on his own. The kitten's tongue was rough like sandpaper the first time it licked Loki's nose. Loki blinked at it in surprise, but was thankful that there was no slobber on his face, and immediately carried it to bed. The cat instantly curled up next to Loki, its radiating warmth next to Loki's midsection. 

Loki never denied his kitten anything, spoiling it rotten with the best foods, places to sleep, and tummy rubs. He even hid it with his cloak to sneak it in at feasts, and when inside, he would take to feeding it little bites here and there. Nobody could complain about the prince's behaviour, though all eyes would stare at the growing black furball he kept in his lap.

"Don't you think you're being a bit ridiculous?" Thor asked when Loki insisted on bringing his cat to a political delegation. He sat quietly, stroking the fur in a steady rhythm which made him look truly sinister. 

"Of course not! Lady is always on her best behaviour, isn't that right?" he cooed against her fur. She purred in response.

Thor shook his head before turning away. "Your cat is good for nothing. At least Hound brings back food for our people! And what kind of a name is _Lady_!"

 

~

 

"LOKI!" Thor's voice came from somewhere. "EXPLAIN TO ME WHY THERE ARE DEAD BIRDS IN MY SHOES!"

Loki sighed but didn't look up from the book he was reading in Odin's grand library. There was a particular spell he needed to know and he was so close. He was dressed in full armour having come from an important meeting, and needing both hands to rifle through the books, placed Lady on top of his helmet. 

"LO-Oh for crying out loud! Have you no shame, brother?" he asked upon seeing the sight, Hound closely at his heels. Lady was perched rather delicately on top of the helmet, the two horns on either side of her made her look regal and intimidating.

"I don't see what you mean, Thor. As per your earlier question, I believe Lady has brought back food for you, just as you requested." He could have imagined it, but his head seemed to vibrate slightly from a purr.

"That is not hunting! And you see nothing wrong with letting your pathetic cat sit _on top of your head_?"

"She is _not_ pathetic, Thor. She is a fine warrior, she just sees no need to prove it to you."

Thor and Hound growled alike, and Loki giggled at this. He set the book down, thinking he would continue his search another day and reached one arm up for Lady. She walked along it like it were a catwalk (pun intended), and nestled into Loki's shoulder.

"She is just like you, leaving devilish tricks for others to stumble across them."

"Are you suggesting there is a better way?" Loki asked mockingly, his face feigning shock as he stepped closer to Thor.

Thor made a step to shove Loki before a streak of black flung forward onto Thor's face, effectively blocking his view and muffling his screams. 

Loki laughed hysterically at the sight of Lady digging her claws into Thor's meaty head before launching herself at Hound, hissing defensively. The animals faced off, spines arched and fur standing up before Hound pounced - and Lady scratched. She gracefully swept her open paws a few more times at Thor and his overgrown dog before strutting back to Loki calmly, sitting at his feet and grooming herself. Loki doubled over in laughter, wiping the tears from his eyes as his brother rubbed his lower shins where there were definitely scratch marks, small wounds along his face from her claws. Hound was reduced to a whimpering mess in the corner of the room, licking his injuries.

"Pathetic, you say?" Loki wheezed. He scooped Lady up before scratching her under the chin and promising her all the chicken she wanted tonight at the feast.


	4. An Apology Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter from Thor.  
> 
> 
> Inspired by this [little gem.](http://bringmelokismjolnir.tumblr.com/post/28452397415/who-said-i-was-wise-i-thought-you-dead-did)

_Loki, my brother -_

_**I'm so sorry.** _

_Had I known that you were breaking, I would have come for you._

_Had I known that you felt so alone, I would never have left your side, even for a moment._

_I would cradle your head close to my breast to cover your eyes from the laughter of the cruel men._

_I would take back every unkind word I spoke to you, and bury them so even the winds could not hear. I would place my hands upon your ears to keep you from hearing them - from me._

_Had I known that you thought us unequal I would have sat by your side every moment of the day, only to rise when you did._

_Had I known that you were so pained, I would have bound myself to the same torture._

_I saw you with my own eyes, letting go, and I am shamed in that I did not fight father to follow you._

_I saw your fingers uncurl one by one, and I am shamed that I could not reach far enough._

_I saw the emptiness swallow you whole, and I am shamed that I did not save you._

_Had I known that your heart was so torn and shattered, I would have given you mine._

_Had I known that you felt you were in my shadow I would have gladly embraced eclipse._

_Had I known that you were breaking, I would’ve have come for you - to hold you together._

**_I’m so sorry._**

_When we meet again, I hope that may forgive me. Forgive me for my blindness, forgive me for my mistakes, forgive me for not showing you the love you deserved._

_I shall see you soon, Loki. My brother._


	5. Clearly Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The opportunity to cause mischief had never presented itself to Loki so clearly in all his years, and he just couldn’t let it slip away.
> 
> Inspired by [this gif.](http://bringmelokismjolnir.tumblr.com/post/27245660636/clearly-yours-one-shot-rated-ga)

“ARGH!” Thor bellowed as he flipped the table over. He was furious, he was absolutely enraged and suddenly wished that there were more in the room than the blasted table.

He opted to sit down on the stairs and no doubt think about all the destruction Mjolnir could do upon some certain men’s faces. He was about to act upon such thought when a set of lightly padded, slow footsteps came around the pillar. He recognized them instantly as the person he least, and most wanted to see right now.

“It is unwise to be in my company right now,” he warned in a threatening voice. Nonetheless, Loki sat delicately beside him with tight lips almost in a frown.

Loki glanced at his brother, studied him up and down before timidly asking him, “What bothers you?”

Thor’s chest began to rise with deep breaths, before growling in the back of his throat.

“You know, if I’ve done something to upset you, you can just _tell me_ ,” Loki said, shifting his position to lean closer to Thor’s ear and checking to see nobody was within hearing range, rubbing his calf with his left hand in a nervous motion.

His brother looked incredulously at him before spluttering out, “It’s nothing that _you have_ done!”

“Then?”

“ _Volstagg_ ,” Thor spat as if the name burned his tongue, “Decided that he would try to court you, and no sooner had he said such a thing that _Fandral_ decided he would try as well!”

The opportunity to cause mischief had never presented itself to Loki so clearly in all his years, and he just couldn’t let it slip away. Thor’s obvious jealousy was like honeyed mead to him, so addicting and rewarding. 

“Why that’s preposterous! How dare they think that when I’m so _clearly_ yours,” he said leaning backwards from Thor just the slightest bit.

“Exactly!” Thor said strongly, emphasizing the word with open hands and a deep nod. Then he turned to the younger god with a slow grin spreading across his face.

Loki pretended to look serious as he raised a finger accusingly at Thor. “No. No, no, no, no, no, I know that look!”

“Excuse me, brother, but I believe I have a lesson to teach our friends.”

As Thor strode out of the room full of purpose, Loki smiled wickedly and tried to find a tower with the _best_ view of the sparring ring where Volstagg and Fandral would surely be.


	6. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This had been Loki’s punishment - to lay until he had been _purified_. It sounded reasonable to Thor, until he witnessed what it was actually like. It had been horrible.
> 
> Inspired by [this beautiful gem.](http://bringmelokismjolnir.tumblr.com/post/27545337299/konoto-nightmare-by-oriental-lady-lovely) Courtesy of [Oriental-Lady.](http://oriental-lady.deviantart.com/)

It was better than being beheaded.

It was better than having his lips sewn shut.

It was better than being tied to while poison dripped from above.

Wasn’t it?

This had been Loki’s punishment - to lay until he had been _purified_. It sounded reasonable to Thor, until he witnessed what it was actually like. It had been horrible.

_Loki stood in the centre of the throne room, on his knees in front of Odin, gagged and bound with guards on either side. When Odin declared the punishment, his eyes had blown wide in a frantic frenzy of green as he tried to say something against his mouthguard, but Odin paid no attention. With a final stomp of Gungnir, Loki was wrenched upward by an invisible force, his back arched and head thrown back, screams muffled by the metal around his lips. The walls of his throat were bleeding from his efforts to plea, as he felt the magic being torn from every single fibre of his being. The gathered witnesses of the trial gasped as they saw the black strands of magic seeping out of Loki’s skin as the humiliated god trembled and wept._

Now he lay, for once, looking at rest. No sinister looks or wicked smiles, just a placid mask of sleep. Thor had visited daily, naturally. He was eager for his brother to wake up, since nobody really knew. It was to be this way until he was pure again, but what would that take? Thor desperately searched for the answer, but Odin would say no more. How was Thor to know that “purified” meant _stripped of his very essence and locked to slumber for a lifetime_? And the thought truly sickened Thor. A lifetime. What if his brother never woke again? Would Loki ever forgive him for agreeing to Odin’s terms? 

“Awake, brother,” he whispered to no avail, as usual. Over time, the black strands of magic that floated out of Loki became less and less, and Thor found this a hopeful sign. Then one day, they stopped completely, yet Loki still did not wake. Instead, he would sometimes catch his brother tense only the slightest, his eyebrows would come forward only in a small furrow, and it broke Thor’s heart that he could not shake his brother from his nightmares.

_Help me, Thor! Help me! Stop them! Loki cried out for his brother, over and over again. But he never came. Not when he was thrown in a rusted cage hoisted above enchanted fire, not when he was being poked and prodded with electrical shocks, not when they forced him to lay open on the steel operation tables while they strapped him down._

_Each cut was so deep, the blood was endless. As if it weren’t enough to break him, and tear away everything he loves, they had to taunt him, to threaten him with the only thing he cared about - Thor._

_‘Give us Thor’_

_‘Go find him yourself!’ he snarled._

_‘Only you know where he is… Give him to us.’_

_Don’t come for me, no matter what you do, don’t come for me. Because if you do… They’ll take you away from me._

Each day was a stab to the heart, each day Thor could not see his brother’s beautiful eyes made him feel like he was incomplete. He wondered what his dreams were about, wondered about what else he could do than to simply hold the almost lifeless little hand that was cold to the touch.

Seven sunsets had gone by, and Loki had not so much as stirred. The small flickers of pain across his face were the furthest he had ever gotten, despite all of Thor’s desperate attempts to wake him.

_No, Thor, stop, you can’t come this way, they’ll -_

_He had had his mouth sewn, he had screamed himself hoarse, but none had taken away his voice like this. The gash across his throat was deep as he felt the warm blood gushing over his neck and pooling onto the table, drenching his hair._

_‘Give us Thor’_

_See, Thor? They would take you away from me. We can’t have that now, can we? Don’t tell me where you are. I already know, but at least I can pretend like I’m not certain. If you’re there, stay there. I was never good at keeping secrets._

His magic was gone, Thor was sure of it. He was scared for Loki to wake up, find his magic completely gone, and in an empty room. So he stayed.

He stayed, and he watched, but he never mourned. He would not allow himself to give up on Loki.

_It is time, brother._

_He laid on the slab of cold metal, the horizontal burn marks on his back were itching, the deep wounds from whipping his feet stung. His fingers were sliced open, black with infection, some missing from his hand entirely. His shoulders had been popped out of place so that his arms were useless in fighting the restraints, scars littered his arms and his eyes were glassy and his head lolled around, unable to make a conscious effort to look up ahead. Each movement caused more ligaments to tear, as if he were trying to dismember his head completely._

“Awake, brother, please,” Thor murmured as he sat on the edge of the bed, staring down into the still face of his brother.

_‘Give us Thor’_

_‘Never. You will never take Thor away from me.’ He thrashed and threw his head back, snapping what was left of his life._

_Be safe brother. Mourn for me. I shall miss you, but this is the only way to protect you - you, the one thing I love._

He placed his fingers into the destined spots between Loki’s, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on his brother’s slightly parted lips, which seemed to warm at the touch.

When Thor pulled back, he could hardly believe it - threads of magic were shooting into Loki like golden vines dancing against a castle.

Loki’s eyelids fluttered before opening slowly to take in everything around him.

“You came for me?” he asked softly, his throat raspy from disuse.

“I never left.”


	7. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this[ lovely piece.](http://bringmelokismjolnir.tumblr.com/post/29458430576/luccellino-for-sarah-x-alone) Credit to[ l'uccellino.](http://luccellino.tumblr.com/)

Contrary to popular belief, Loki did in fact love Thor. He loved him dearly - more dearly than anyone else he had ever come to known. The problem was that when you delved in the practices of magic and trickery, people wanted to hurt you, to strike closest to your heart. For Loki, it had always been, and always will be, Thor.

He carried the burden with him - surely Thor would try to commit foolishness, like try to save him or convince Loki to give up his ways, and Loki couldn’t have that now.

Still, with great power came a throng of enemies, and sorcery was a road of solitude. He fought fiercely, hiding the scars and wounds from Thor’s eyes, keeping the foes off Thor’s trail, but there came a point where his body, his mind, every fibre of his being would snap. There was only so much he could - even gods had their limits.

He let himself fade, gradually of course, but nobody truly noticed when the trickster would miss an evening feast. Or two. Perhaps half of them. All of them. Mornings too.

His presence dwindled away to nothing, until he seemingly disappeared. 

Thor had always known his brother’s love for antics and adventure, it wasn’t rare to have Loki go travelling alone for a few days at a time, yet something was amiss. Pure instincts told him that Loki was in need of something, though he couldn’t tell what. At a loss, he decided that riding out to Heimdall would at least put his mind at ease, yet when he searched for his cape, it was gone. Nobody was allowed to enter his chambers - but he knew someone who could, if they truly wanted. 

He made his way to his brother’s room, not expecting to be able to enter. He pounded on the door - was this another trick of Loki’s? To take away his prized cloak? He remembered one night they sat and gambled together, what Loki had wanted to wager.

_“I’ve always been very fond of this, brother,” Loki purred, fingering the soft fabric that hung from Thor’s shoulders._

Yes, this had to be Loki’s prank. The door didn’t open, and there was no noise behind it. By now, Thor had begun to worry, and brought his hand to wrap around Mjolnir. The door crashed heavily with three mighty blows, and Thor looked around at the mess of Loki’s room. Shattered glass and odd-coloured mixtures laid on the ground, books tossed carelessly and the sheets frantically torn. 

Loki was in trouble. He knew it.

He dashed to the stables to ride to Heimdall, his cape forgotten. As soon as he had finished tacking his horse, a small black bird with white feathers flew past - a bird not native to Asgard. It dropped a piece of fabric at Thor’s feet. His heart plummeted. He knew the texture and colour anywhere - a torn fragment of his cape. 

_Loki!_

“Good Heimdall, pray do tell me where my brother is! Is he in trouble?”

“I cannot see your brother,” the gatekeeper replied slowly.

_The great Heimdall? Can’t see him? How can this be?_

“He has cloaked himself from my sight, left through the many paths of the cosmos,” Heimdall said once more, as if reading Thor’s mind.

_No, no, no! How will I ever find him?_

 

—

 

_“Take this… To Thor… Find him,” Loki gasped. With the last of his energy, he re-created the passage he had taken to Jotunheim, just barely big enough for the winged creature to fly through._

_He let his eyes droop heavily, his breathing staggered. He clutched the warm fabric of Thor’s cloak, inhaling the familiar scent, feeling guilty for taking it with him in a last minute decision. The comfort surrounded him as he lay, taking his final breaths._

_He smiled serenely, turning his head to watch the bird fly off, and felt Death’s clutches around him as he wondered if Thor would ever find him again._


	8. Lurk in the Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My feels got in the way
> 
> So have some spiteful!Loki's POV.
> 
> and why did I get so angsty? Blame this gif:  
>   
> Credit to [dunderklumpen](http://dunderklumpen.tumblr.com)

Just as I lurk in the dark,  
There’s a fear that lurks around in my mind:  
That I don’t have a purpose  
That I’m never to measure up  
That I’ll always be the black sheep, the nameless or the blamed   
That life isn’t a stage to me as it is to others  
No matter, I suppose - I’ve always hated the spotlight anyway

Is it so terrible that I’m content being in the shadows?  
That I don’t need to bask in the warmth of attention,  
That I’d rather be alone some days,  
That I’m okay with sleeping until the sun sets  
And rising with the moon instead?

Can one really shame me for wanting   
The silence of the night, rather than the slander of men’s tongues  
The company of the stars, rather than the goading of everyone who despises me  
The solitude, and the only true comfort of myself, for I trust no one else?

Perhaps no one else can see it, but I see all  
I see all because nobody looks in the shadows.  
They never do

 

\--

 

They mock, I stare  
I speak, they jeer

 

Even as I fight, it’s not enough for them,  
Nothing is.

They mock, I stare  
I defend myself, they jeer

And you? What are you doing?  
You think you are any better?

You may not laugh as they do, but your lips are pulled tight  
You may not point, but your arms are crossed, fingers gripping your sides  
You may not stare, but your eyes flicker to me and back to your friends as they whisper in your ear

You are _not better_ , do not lie to yourself  
Leave that part to me

 

\--

 

It’s only when my brother –  
My lover –  
My partner –  
My subject –  
My toy –

 

_The one who kneels now, between my legs_

It’s only when the one who parts my legs begins his conquest  
That I feel this burning heat  
In this frozen body of mine,  
It burns

 

It’s a pleasant burn  
It’s a horrid burn  
It _burns_

And it leaves just as it comes, coiling and clenching heat  
I feel good. Really, really good.

“Get out,” I snap

And that makes me feel even better

 

\--

 

Is this your home now?  
So weak, so foreign, so warm – so unlike me  
Do I repulse you so?

Is that why you protect this realm  
Because you couldn’t protect me?  
Does it burn you to know that you failed as a protector once already?

Not everyone deserves a second chance

Not you, anyway

Let me wreak havoc on this land  
As you have on my soul  
The thunder comes, and I know it too well  
I’m not overly fond of this part, _brother_  
But I know I’ve made my mark

 

\--

 

Why do you crouch so?  
Can you not meet my eye?

The very same eyes you used to stare into and whisper your love,  
Has it gone away yet?

Have I won?

You turn without word, you walk away  
And the only thing that hurts  
Is that you’ve gone on your own accord,  
Before I’ve even parted my lips

 

\--

 

Are you ever not going to fall for that?

It makes me feel as though you’ve learned nothing about me over the years  
Though I suppose I wouldn’t be surprised  
Never had time for me, did you now?

Not unless it was to take your place above me, to take me

And now, I’m taking back.

Goodbye –

 

\--

 

Why – How are you here?  
Haven’t I sent you plummeting through the sky in a glass cage?

No matter,   
You will fall

 

\--

 

Stop this? Together?

Ha!

There is only the war, only the war  
Only the war -  
Only  
the  
 _war!_

That is all.  
Only.  
There is only the war.  
There is no stopping it.  
The army is coming  
Nothing will change that  
Nothing can stop it

 

Please.

 

\--

 

How is it that I’ve failed again,  
Fallen again, defeated, broken  
A god, bleeding and bound

I despise you, I absolutely _loathe_ you  
You want to take me back to that wretched golden palace with your old fool of father?

 

_Fine!_

I’ll take the cursed Tesseract in hand,

Take me,  
Just as you always have.

 

\--

 

Just as I lurk in the dark,  
There’s a fear that lurks around in my mind:  
That I don’t have a purpose  
That I’m never to measure up  
That I’ll always be the black sheep, the nameless or the blamed   
That life isn’t a stage to me as it is to others

I see all, just as I used to  
Nobody used to look in the shadows –

But they do now.


	9. Cameras

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Tony thought it was a good idea to give Thor a camera to capture those special moments (and ruining them at the same time) 
> 
> Loki does not approve, ok?
> 
> Inspired by [this adorable picture.](http://bringmelokismjolnir.tumblr.com/post/27135445565/mooching-leech-so-tony-thought-it-was-a-good) Credit to [mooching-leech. ](http://mooching-leech.tumblr.com)

“So don’t be so alarmed when it flashes next time, alright? You’re the Norse God of freakin’ Thunder, you can handle the flash. Anyway, so that’s just the picture option, and this,” Tony said adjusting the camera’s settings. “This is the video function, so instead of having a still frame, you can capture what’s going on, and replay it afterwards. Look.”

He demonstrated for Thor, dancing and making goofy faces in the camera and letting Thor film him. He still hadn’t figured out if giving Thor a camera was the best idea, but he said he wanted to remember Loki’s birthday for years to come - what better way?

“You just press that button to play it back,” Tony instructed. 

Thor was beside himself with glee as he re-watched Tony make an ass of himself.

“Tony Stark, this is most magnificent! I must video everything!”

“Record, Thor. You must _record_ everything. The _videos_ are what you take,” Tony tried to correct him.

“Yes, yes, I must make many recordings!” With that, Thor bounded down the hallway back to his room, leaving Tony to shake his head with a smile.

Thor was smiling broadly as he entered his room, and his grin only grew as he spotted his younger brother sprawled on the bed. He was beautiful in his sleep, the bliss and serenity over his face in a flawless mask. His breathing was quiet and even, the hushed breaths escaping partly opened lips to make the loose strand of hair flutter in front of his face delicately. 

Seeing his brother this peaceful made Thor’s heart swell, as he pressed the “record” button Tony showed him. 

He kept the lens trained on his brother’s profile, and leaned in to kiss him gently on the brow. 

“Thor?” Loki mumbled as he turned his head to face upward completely, his eyes still closed.

“Happy birthday, brother!” Thor whispered as he stole a kiss from Loki’s lips.

He slowly opened his eyes to repsond, “Thank y-“

His eyes were wide and alert now, trained on the device in Thor’s hands. “Thor! Put that away!”

And that was the story of how two half naked Norse Gods played a very long game of tag around Stark Towers.


End file.
